


Out of Time

by emeraldwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 18:29:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17688629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldwitch/pseuds/emeraldwitch
Summary: Written for a Supernatural writing challenge on tumblr.





	Out of Time

“Why are you crying?” You picked your head up from the table at the unfamiliar voice.

“Who are you?” You asked, stunned by the man before you. How had a stranger gotten into the bunker? Why was he wearing a suit?

“Henry Winchester. Legacy, I suppose. I haven’t seen a woman here since Josie.”

He sounded sad when he said her name. You remembered Josie, one of few women to be inducted into the Men of Letters. She never finished her initiation, instead being possessed by Abbadon.

“Winchester? I didn’t know Sam and Dean had any family… Other than Mary, I guess.”

“I’ve been… Away for a while,” he told you, offering no further explanation before continuing. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why were you crying?”

“Because Dean is being stupid and dramatic again, and he’s stressing me out,” you sighed. You knew it was probably wrong to tell him, you didn’t know him; and he could well be a demon; but he had a way about him that put you at ease.

“He is like that, isn’t he? When I first met him, he threatened me at gunpoint.”

“Sounds about right. So how are you related?” You had to know what you were getting yourself into before you got too comfortable with him.

“I’m their grandfather. John Winchester was my son.”

“You’re dead?” It was all you could think to say. He had been dead for five years, at least.

“I was,” he began. “I’m not sure why I’m not now.”

“I may have had a hand in that,” Crowley said, coming from somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen.

“Why did you bring back their dead grandfather?” Dean was going to be pissed. Even more pissed than when the Empty had spat Crowley back at him.

“A gift. I thought he might be able to help Moose with his research.”

“Dean is going to kill you,” you reminded him, watching Henry from the corner of your eye. He wasn’t reacting, so you had to assume that he wasn’t aware that Crowley was a demon.

“Just go away. I need to think, and I can’t with you standing here, smirking.” You waved dismissively, and he snapped away.

“What was that?” Henry asked, surprisingly calm.

“King of Hell, chronic pain in the ass,” you explained.

“How did he get in? This bunker is supposed to be warded against every kind of evil known to man!” There it was. The panic and indignation.

“I have no idea, but he’s usually helpful. We haven’t needed to figure it out yet.”

“We’ll figure that out later. What is it that Dean is doing?”

“I don’t want to talk about it… Ask Sam when he gets home.” You shook your head and stood up from the table.

The next couple of days went surprisingly well. That is, aside from Henry’s near constant misunderstanding of technology.

“Sam, do something with your grandfather. His whistling is giving me a headache.” You closed your laptop and stretched.

“Henry. Henry!” Sam finally got his attention. “Please stop. Come here and let her show you how the computer works so we can get through this research faster.”

“Why me?” You asked Sam with wide eyes.

“Because I need to keep working; and I can tell you need a break. Just take him in the kitchen, make some coffee, and explain what the mouse does.”

“Fine,” you huffed, leaving the room. Henry followed behind you, careful to give you space.

“You don’t have to teach me, really. I can figure it out,” he assured you.

While he wasn’t your favorite Winchester, by any means, his attempt at letting you off the hook softened you some. He did this every time Sam asked you to teach him something, whether it was how to work the Keurig or how to change the battery in your newer vehicle. Sam wanted him as functional in this time as possible, and Henry always assured you that he was a smart man and could sort it out himself. He never wanted you to feel forced to spend time with him.

“No, it’s okay,” you told him, starting the coffee pot. “It’s pretty simple.”

Throughout this lesson, he kept his eyes focused intently on the computer screen as you explained the functions and walked him through accessing the databases that you and Sam had worked tirelessly to collate.

“I have to ask you something,” Henry said finally. “I’m afraid it might be terribly forward of me.”

“Go ahead?” You were barely aware of procedures in today’s social world, much less the 1950s.

“It’s just that you’re such a beautiful, kind woman… Are you seeing anyone?”

To say you were surprised was an understatement. You nearly fell out of your chair. You hoped he was only trying to understand your relationship with his grandsons.

“No, Henry, I’m not,” you told him, finally looking into his eyes. You realized that you had never really paid any mind to what he looked like, always focused on what you were teaching him.

“And what are the… uhm… Courting rituals in this decade?”

“That’s not what I’m supposed to be teaching you; but there aren’t really any. Someone asks someone on a date. You go see a movie or something. The end. If you like each other you plan another date.”

“Well, darling, would you consider going on a date with me?”

This time you did fall out of your chair; or you would have if Henry hadn’t caught you. It was the first time he’d touched you; and you couldn’t say that you minded. His hands were soft.  _Because he’s a glorified librarian,_ you argued with yourself.  _And he’s their grandfather!_

“I understand if you say no. It’s really alright,” he continued, releasing your arm.

“Just…” You tried to word it a politely as possible. “What would the boys think?”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks,” he told you with more confidence than you’d seen from him so far. “If it’s what you want, they will have to accept it.”

“Then yes, Henry. I will go on a date with you,” you agreed, ignoring the nagging voice in your head. “But only if you pay attention and figure out how to work this machine first.”


End file.
